Don't you ever try to take me back
by Poetoffire
Summary: "She's terrified.  Why couldn't you leave her alone like everyone else does?  Is it not enough for her to tend the flowers?" Music drabble, post-series, dark content.


And we finally get into the heavier, darker, symbolism-heavy and canonically straying parts of **Blood like sunlight**, the series of oneshots I wrote inspired by songs. I had to ease us all in, but there's no going back now. Don't like what's going on? Read the warnings list and the rating. This isn't "normal" fanfic, it isn't pretty, and I write that little list of focus/scenario/rating/warnings/notes for a reason. Read 'em.

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Song: Overdose

Artist: Hurt

Album: Volume 1

Focus: Freya

Scenario: Post-series

Rating: PG (K+)

Warnings: **Dark content**, unabashed use of second-person

Notes: The song is about drug addiction, and is quite the experience, with beautiful instrumentals and wistful whispers fading into tortured screaming and hard rock. It's the darkest song that I used, and the piece itself is very dark and creepy, but there are a few songs later in the series with sweet, light melodies and disturbing lyrics that become very twisted oneshots. This is the most in-your-face dark, though.

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Don't you ever try to take me back**

You heard that she lives right between one of the gates and the tower. You heard that she hasn't come out since the gate opened. Why did you come here? Didn't you know her mind was broke when the spell over the town was broken, when everything smeared and fictions seeped into one another?

It doesn't look too scary once you get there. In fact, it's rather pretty. Just a little overcrowded. Blooms of every shape, color, and texture jockey for space, reaching toward the sun.

Bushes and trees line the house, which was once part of a line of houses just like it. Now it's an island of green and rainbow.

Why did you come here? Oh, right, for a few flowers. That's why people come here—there's so many flowers, and better yet, they're free.

Just uproot one, repot it, or pick it as a bushel for your sweetheart, who doesn't like you much anyway, to be honest, but don't worry; you won't find that out for a couple months and those couple months will be alright, as relationships go.

But you won't be satisfied with only that, will you? You'll walk down the pathway, which is on the verge of surrender to all the plants, and knock on the door.

She answers it. Sort of. The door opens, and she's there, but when you step toward her she shrinks and suddenly she's halfway across the room. She has eyes like a scared animal.

She's wearing a gardening apron over a plain white dress, which looks sort of like a ballet costume. Her hair is all up in a dozen pins and ribbons. It's blonde, and might look pretty if she washed it more.

Why did you come here? She's terrified. Why couldn't you leave her alone like everyone else does? Is it not enough for her to tend the flowers?

"I got these," you say, and gesture to the bouquet in your hand. "That okay with you?"

She nods.

"I think some of them in your yard are dying," you say. "There's too many."

"No," she says, barely above a whisper.

"Why do you keep all them anyway?" you ask.

You shouldn't have asked that. It was very rude, and you can tell it was wrong by the way she flinches back.

"Well," she says, and it sounds like she's not used to talking. "Well, there's a boy who left Kinkan who tended flowers with me, and it reminds me of him."

You grin. She's not so nuts, just a little weird and trying to cling to the past. Everyone is, it's the style these days. "And maybe if you grow enough he'll come back, huh?"

"Maybe if I grow enough no one will want to find me and tell me he's a prince in a fairytale, now."

She smiles apologetically. You notice there is a glass jar on her mantelpiece filled with seeds.

"Thanks for the flowers," you say, as if it makes up for what you've done, and bow out.

"Hope you like them, but don't start needing them like me."

She laughs.

"Alright," you say.

"I mean it." she says.

You don't even know why you came here, you insensitive babbler. Just leave.


End file.
